


A Series of Incidents (and Their Consequences).

by His_Lordship_Entropie, The_Most_Honorable_Nevermore



Series: Fail Again, Fail Better [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Modern Marauders (Harry Potter), Multi, Not Canon Compliant, POV Multiple, Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Regulus Black Needs a Hug, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, Sirius Black-centric, Violence, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/His_Lordship_Entropie/pseuds/His_Lordship_Entropie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Most_Honorable_Nevermore/pseuds/The_Most_Honorable_Nevermore
Summary: *** The four of them seemed to share something - a kind of energy that made Peter feel like he could do anything, as long as they had his back. ***Six students make their way to their first year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and none of them knows what to expect. Severus wants to make a name for himself. Sirius will discover that who you are can lift you up or drag you down. Remus just hopes he’ll make friends, while James will learn they sometimes come from where you least expect it. Lily wants to learn as much as possible about this brand new world. Peter... well, Peter merely hopes he’ll survive the year.As the modern world creeps into the conservative wizarding society, threatening to overthrow its traditions and the status quo, and with tensions at an all-time high, in Hogwarts, friendships will be forged, others will be put to the test — and children will grow up.
Relationships: James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Sirius Black & Black Family, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Original Character(s), Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Series: Fail Again, Fail Better [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124423
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. The Book Incident

“How in Salazar’s name, Sirius Orion, you have managed to mess up your hair in such a manner and so little time, is a wonder.”

It was September 1st, and, in 12, Grimmauld Place, London, everything was in turmoil. Today was the day the Eldest Son of the Elder Branch of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Sirius Orion Black III, was enrolling in Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the hallway, a heavy, sturdy, silver-studded trunk bearing the family crest was resting, waiting for the house-elves to take it away to King’s Cross railway station, while, in the drawing-room, Walburga Black was chiding her son, as was her wont.

“We are running out of time, Mother. I will take care of it properly once I am seated in the train”, replied her oldest with the solemn, business-like tone that was to be expected from someone of his upbringing. 

There was just the slightest note of hope in his voice, though, that any other but his little brother, familiar with his antics, would have missed. 

“I certainly am not going to let you wander around in such an appalling state. You are not to disgrace this family.”

And thus went Sirius’ chance at keeping his hair messier than his mother deemed it proper. From the staircase where he was adjusting his cloak, Regulus Black peered through the door of the drawing-room to see the tall, severe silhouette of his mother carefully rearranging Sirius’ jet-black strands into a more conventional — and thus acceptable — hairdo.

“The boy is right, Walburga, we _are_ running out of time,” cut in the curt, steely barytone of Orion Black, as the latter entered the drawing-room from his study. “This will have to be cut short unless we want to make a far more undignified entry at the station.”

His words had the unintended effect of making his elder jump, as he mistook his words for a threat to trim a royal mane that was already far too short for the precious cub’s liking. Regulus quickly surveyed his own outfit, making sure that no pleat nor crease was out of place, and tried hurriedly to discipline his hair. Unfortunately for the younger Black brother, instead of his elder’s smooth, silky strands, so much like Father’s, _he_ had inherited Mother’s tight, wild curls. The best he could hope from them was to keep them away from his face and to vaguely part them on one side as they seemed to stubbornly refuse to part in the middle.

Hopefully, though, there was a strong possibility that Mother would hardly notice. Today was Sirius’ big day, after all, and all eyes were to be on him. Far from seeming to enjoy the attention, though, the eldest son — and heir apparent — to one of the most respected wizarding families — if not _the_ most respected — in Britain, had let his gaze wander towards the window, that bored, somewhat haughty expression of his that was dangerously close to already become, at eleven years of age, a signature trait, painted all over his face.

“Well, if I was to miss the train, _that_ would definitely attract some attention, I guess,” said Sirius matter-of-factly, though the hint of a smirk was visible at the corner of his lips.

For sure, neither Father nor Mother could find the jab to their liking. Already, Mother seemed to be riling herself up for one of her formidable fits of anger — but Father merely clicked his tongue.

“Go put your cloak on, Sirius, and make sure your brother is ready. This is not the day for you to be defiant, boy.”

Regulus pouted. Of course, he was ready. He had been ready for the past fifteen minutes, as per usual. But he quickly checked himself. Father disapproved of pouting. A part of the 10-and-a-half-year-old Black boy, though, couldn’t help but admire a little the calm his brother could muster in such a dreadful occasion. He knew that, when his turn would come the following year, he would most certainly be a nervous wreck. He would certainly never muster the nerve to crack a joke on the train that was supposed to take him farther away than they had ever been from the family house for a whole year, let alone look as bored as if he was heading to a tea party at Uncle Cygnus’.

Sirius, though, had already proceeded, as he would when faced with a direct order from their father, and was fastening his finely embroidered cloak, a wonder of silver arabesques and green cashmere that had been bought specially for the occasion, which made him look every bit the little Slytherin prince he would become once the Sorting ceremony would be a settled affair. Regulus, with one last glance at his reflection in the hallway mirror, straightened his collar and turned at his brother.

“Are we going now ?”

****

“Stay close to us, love. There’s a lot of people.”

Remus Lupin nodded and his mother wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders as they followed his father through the crowd swarming King’s Cross station. His hands clutching nervously the handlebar of his trolley, his battered suitcase and trunk securely fastened, the boy cast curious glances around him. This was the first time he had left his native Wales and their rather reclusive life — and to come to London, no less! — and everything, from the sheer number of people moving decidedly around them to the lights of the station and blaring music overhead, left him both bewildered and a bit dizzy.

“This way,” his father urged with an excited smile. He was pointing at a metal barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. “Hold on tightly to your trolley, and ram it into that barrier!”

“Ram into the… ?” Remus gaped, baffled. “But…”

“Have you gone mad, Lyall, or is this your idea of a joke ?”

Hope’s cheeks had gone red. Lyall chuckled, obviously amused, and put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“Trust me, you won’t hurt yourself. There’s a passage here, just like the one I showed you at Grandma’s. It’s hidden so that Muggles don’t stumble accidentally upon the Hogwarts Express.”

Remus relaxed slightly, and his mum let out a low sigh.

“You do keep yourselves well away from us, don’t you ?” she murmured, somewhat dejectedly.

The red had gone from her cheeks, and she let go of her son to let him maneuver his trolley in peace. Lyall took her by the waist and drew her to him, kissing her temple.

“Maybe, someday, it will change…” he said. “But for now…”

He shrugged and nodded at his son to go ahead. Remus nodded back. He took a few steps back, pulling the heavy trolley to build up momentum — and flung both himself and his luggage at the metal barrier; he almost lost his balance when he came through, not having met the resistance he had been expecting, and threw a glance over his shoulder. Instead of the — very modern, very ordinary — steel barrier towards which he had steered his trolley just a second ago, stood a wrought-iron archway bearing the words “Platform Nine and Three-Quarters”, painted in white. His dad, still holding his mum by the waist, emerged from there, smiling at him as if he had just played a good joke on him.

“So, Remus? What do you think of it ?” He extended his arm, embracing in the gesture the crowded platform and the scarlet steam train patiently waiting for its passengers to climb aboard while spewing clouds of billowing smoke. “Exciting, isn’t it ?”

Remus took a careful look around him. In there as in the other parts of the station, people were simply swarming. Parents straightening collars and dispensing some last-minute pieces of advice to teenagers impatient to run off to their friends. Tall, nonchalant seventh-years, adults already, going for their last tour at the school. Bands of children reunited after two whole months of summer, catching up on each other’s lives. Mothers hugging their embarrassed spawns, fathers dealing out their recommendations, siblings joking and jeering at each other. Small, baby-faced first-years, some excited beyond words, chattering up till their parents’ ears fell off; others terrified out of their minds, and very close to tears...

Well, to be fair, if he wasn’t close to tears, Remus, for his part, belonged nonetheless to the last category — the scared newcomers. So it was with a good deal of reserve that he mumbled :

“I… guess.”

Lyall’s smile faltered and faded, and Remus dropped his gaze. Of course, he would spoil his father’s pleasure. They had thought he would never be able to attend school — and against all hope, he was there, about to board that train Lyall had described to him so many times that, if he had been even remotely able to hold a pencil, he could probably have drawn with his eyes closed. It was an extremely important moment, a dream he had not dared dream…

“Don’t.”

Remus started and looked up. His mum was leaning over him, running her fingers through his thick brown hair. She shook her head.

“Don’t blame yourself for being nervous, pet. It’s only normal… It’s a big change in our lives.” She smiled softly and kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry, pet. Everything is going to be fine.”

Remus nodded back, forcing a pale smile, and hugged her — so thin and fragile, his poor little mum… — then put his hands back on the handlebar of the trolley and pushed it down the platform to the end of the train, as his father began to chatter again about the school, and his time there.

He almost ran into a young wizard — he couldn’t be that far from Remus’ age, but looked somewhat older with the way he was holding up his head, high and unbowing, his back straight as a plank. He was about his height too, but much more graceful, without that awkwardness in his movements that seemed to characterize Remus’. Raven black hair framed a pale face with fine — almost too fine — lines and a pair of strikingly blue eyes, atop the most… extraordinary, emerald green, silver-thread cloak imaginable. That piece of fabric alone was probably worth their rent for half a year!

The boy was trying to calm down something hooting in a most outraged manner in what seemed to be a birdcage covered by a blanket, bouncing like a boggart trying to jump out of its closet upon a pile of neatly-strapped schoolbooks. By the sounds transpiring through the thick fabric, Remus was briefly tempted to wonder whether he was the only monster being smuggled into Hogwart this term, or if he would have to share his full moon accommodations with whatever was causing that ruckus.

“Artarex-Artaxa-Artex….. Oh come on, will you cut it, you stupid piece of poultry? I knew I should have stupefied you upon leaving the house !”

“Sirius Orion !” cut the sharp, icy — and definitely scandalised— voice of a woman, all clad in black, who was walking a few steps ahead of the boy.

Judging by her raven hair, sharp grey eyes — and the unmistakably overpriced dress she wore — there were good chances that this was his mother. That, and the fact she seemed to have come straight out of the 19th century. 

The boy started, but began, his face set into a stubborn - and somewhat righteous - expression :

“But, mother, that idiotic bird-”

“That _priceless bird_ , Sirius Orion, is a present from your grandfather, and you should be _grateful_ to him to have offered you such a _grand_ and _fitting_ animal !”

“That _thing_ tried to suffocate Regulus in his sleep, and almost cut off my forefinger when I first tried to feed it !” came the outraged protest. “This owl is pure murderous intent with a pair of wings and fluffy horns.” 

“Don’t be preposterous, Sirius Orion. Of _course_ , it did not try to hurt your brother !” was the dismissive answer.

The brother in question — a lanky ten-year-old with curly, dark hair, and clear eyes, who seemed to be trying his best to imitate his elder’s posture — cringed visibly and mumbled something under his breath that no-one seemed to hear or care about, even though Remus distinctly made out the words “ _ear tufts_ ”.

“I should have thrown you under the train,” whispered the boy dejectedly, as he set to follow his parents towards the end of the platform. As he left, grumbling under his breath and without a glance behind, Remus noticed something on the ground, and, stepping forward, bent over to pick it up.

“Isn’t it one of the first-year school books, love ?” asked his mother. “It certainly looks like one of yours,” she added while craning her neck to get a better view.

It was. Not his, that is — his were safely tucked away inside his suitcase — but one just like his, certainly dislodged from the pile under the bouncing birdcage belonging to “Sirius Orion”. To confirm his suspicions, on the front page, he found a handwritten warning stating that the book was the sole property of S. O. B., and enchanted so that any attempt to steal it would result in the offender being instantly turned into a werewolf.

_Joke's on you, for I've already gotten quite the head start on this particular aspect._

“Let’s go give it back. It will make a nice ice breaker,” Lyall said cheerfully.

And without waiting for his wife or Remus' approval, he strode forward, dragging his mildly reluctant and definitely apprehensive son by the wrist.

"Well, if it isn't Orion Black, his beautiful wife, and their lovely boys !" Lyall shouted out, making several inquisitive glances turn in their direction. Remus felt his ears turn red.

The man turned round, his face only showing polite surprise — but his frost-blue eyes cast upon Lyall a look where all his upbringing could not entirely hide his irritated disapproval of the latter’s boldness. He was towering over Lyall, though he must not have been that much taller than him; but there was something in his bearing and poise — something so very imposing, so very aristocratic, that he seemed to be squashing down Lyall and his enthusiastic greetings. 

With composure, he settled facing Remus’ dad, both hands resting on the head of his cane, the folds of his — ridiculously luxurious — black velvet cloak draping around him like wings. Altogether, he gave off a very “victorian villain” vibe, with his black frock and gloves, silk cravat, silver ornaments, and Brandenburgs. All he needed were the top hat and monocle to look like he had stepped right out of a Conan Doyle novel — or its wizard equivalent.

“Lupin,” the aforementioned Orion Black dropped, noncommittally. “How… unexpected.”

Lyall did not seem to pick up on the chill that was now surrounding them — or maybe, following an idea of his own, had he decided to power through it. Wrapping a proud arm around Remus’ shoulders, he beamed.

“Well, it is my boy’s first term at Hogwarts. His big day, so to speak.” He paused and smiled at the older of the two boys, the one who looked pretty much like a “mini-me” version of his father. “Same year as your son, it would seem, right ?”

Remus felt his cheeks and ears burn at being pushed forward like that, under the less-than-friendly gazes of what was obviously the counterpart, in the wizarding world, of the flipping royal family — with whom Lyall had just happily transgressed just about ALL the rules of protocol.

The older boy — Sirius Orion. His name was Sirius Orion, Remus suddenly remembered — was sizing him up, his eyes trailing over his grey hoodie, black trainers, blue jeans where his mother had sewn a patch on the right knee, and the sturdy messenger bag whose strap, thrown across his chest, he was nervously tormenting. The result of said sizing up he couldn’t tell, but judging by the crest and motto on the dragon leather trunk — no need to be a cunning linguist to understand that _Toujours Pur_ meant something along the line of “ _Purity forever_ ” — and the disappointment in Orion Black’s eyes when he had glanced at both Remus and his mum, he doubted it would be in his favour.

The younger one — Regulus, his brother had called him — was not as discrete with his curiosity as his elder: his eyes were unwaveringly affixed to Remus’ face — who, once again, felt his cheeks and ears heat up under the scrutiny. Of course, the boy _would_ stare at the long, pale scars that ran across his nose and left cheek in four parallel lines. And somewhere, deep inside his mind, a tiny voice murmured that it was only a matter of time before the thoughts and questions he would almost hear whirring behind the greenish-greyish eyes would fall into place like jigsaw pieces and he would point at him shouting: “ _Look out! There’s a werewolf on the loose !_ ”

Or something along those lines, though probably with much better grammar.

As for the mother, she could have been beautiful — must have been, some years since — with her heavy black curls carefully and neatly arranged in some elaborate hairdo and the apparently natural grace and elegance of her silhouette, even in the ridiculously outdated dress and cloak she was wearing. She, too, seemed to have come straight out of some late-19th century novel, and somehow gave the impression that it was perfectly normal everyday wear. But her features were stone-hard, her lips tightly sealed in a grim, scornful line, and her steely grey eyes were blazing with an unmistakable mixture of disgust, outrage, and anger as she stared at Remus and his mother. Especially his mother, actually.

_Of course._

Remus took his mother’s hand and gently squeezed it quietly, as Orion Black dropped in the same dispassionate, noncommittal voice :

“I was not aware that your son was of Sirius’ age.” He paused. “Though it is unlikely that they will end up in the same House, isn't it ?”

Lyall, this time, seemed to notice the implications behind the other man’s words. His eyes flickered briefly, and Remus felt his hand on his shoulder tightening its grasp. But the smile on his lips didn’t waver as he answered :

“Slytherins and Ravenclaws usually don’t have much of a feud, do they ?”

The shadow of a smile passed over Orion Black’s lips as if he had been amused by Lyall’s daring, and for a second, he conceded :

“They do not.” But the concession was soon passed, as he added: “But I am afraid Sirius will be much too taken by his peers to look around for company.”

This time, it was impossible, even for Lyall’s stubborn optimism, to ignore the rebuttal. The hand on Remus’ shoulder was gripping him so tight it almost hurt him — but he did not flinch, merely looking up at him. Lyall was still smiling, though his smile had gone almost resigned. Nonetheless, he added :

“Who knows what the future may hold…”

A loud scoff, coming from Mrs. Black, was the only answer he got as Mr. Black merely nodded vaguely and the boys looked him up in a very uncomfortable way. Remus looked down and scuffed his shoes. There was no way for them to get out of this with any kind of dignity left, now. 

In his hand, his mum’s fingers had closed around his, as if to reassure him. Turning to her husband, she lifted her head.

“Lyall.”

That was all. Soft, quiet, but firm. Lyall turned his head towards her, and his eyes were hesitant as they met hers. But he sighed and nodded before turning back to the Blacks.

“Time is flying. We’ll leave you to it.” He paused. “I’m glad to have seen you again.”

Orion Black bent his head politely enough.

“As I said, it has been… unexpected.” He sent a quick glance towards Remus and Hope and, perhaps out of a vague reminiscence of some long-lost common past, he graced them both with a curt nod of acknowledgement. “Mrs. Lupin.”

Then, before his (not so) better half could react, he turned away and resumed his path towards the head of the train, his family in tow, leaving Remus and his parents behind.

“Dad…” Remus finally ventured, looking up again at him. “You’re squeezing too hard…”

Lyall started and let go of him with a mumbled apology. Hope sighed briefly and ran a hand through the boy’s hair.

“Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe it’s just as well that you don’t get too involved with people who are too concerned about origins and blood purity, my love.”

Remus couldn’t totally help agreeing with her — but Lyall, on the other hand, had deflated and was looking quite down. So the boy took his hand in his and squeezed.

“Thanks, anyway. For trying.”

Lyall looked down, and had a forced smile, squeezing back.

“Well, I guess it must have been uncomfortable for you… Sorry.”

Remus shrugged and shook his head.

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ll see much of him after tonight anyway.”

Lyall smiled a little more sincerely and wrapped his arms around Remus.

“You’re a good, brave boy, Remus. I’m really proud of you. We both are.” He paused and knelt. “You must never doubt it, you hear me? Mum and I are ever so proud of you. No matter what happens.”

Remus felt his ears heat up again and looked down with an awkward smile — and his eyes fell on the corner of the book, poking out of his bag. He had completely forgotten about the goddamned thing.

“Oh, bloody Hell…”

“Language, Remus,” Hope replied, out of habit, before looking down. She scrunched up her nose. “Oh…”

Oh, indeed. Remus definitely couldn’t keep the bloody thing, or the Blacks just might accuse him of stealing it — but the prospect of having to run after them after what had just passed was definitely not first on the list of his priorities…

“You better go give it back now, love. The sooner you are rid of it, the better.”

Remus looked up pleadingly at his mother — but Hope’s eyes, soft as they were, were firm too. And of course, she was right. So with a sigh, the boy readjusted the strap on his bag on his shoulder and broke into a run to go after the Black family.

Not that they were too far, to be honest — a mere hundred yards, at most. And it was not too good a sign that people around them were steering clear, avoiding their small group by several paces. Even without the previous scene, it would have been one Hell — _Heck. One heck. Sorry, Mum._ — of a red flag for Remus… Mrs. Black was vituperating about his father and his “unforgivable lack of any kind of propriety.”

“Anybody with but an ounce of decency and proper education would know that this kind of… of _mooching_ is disgraceful !” she scoffed like an offended grouse, all her feathers ruffled up. “Who does he think he is, really, to dare…”

Her husband merely waved an impatient hand to cut her off.

“He used to be a rather decent fellow. A real expert in his field, well-respected. It is a shame, really, the way things turned… A most unlucky string of events. And an undesirable match, of course.”

“Well, the boy seemed nice enough, if a bit sickly. And shabby,” young Sirius Orion remarked, with that slightest touch of haughtiness in his tone.

_Of course, anyone would look shabby when you’re used to wiping your arse with silk, you ponce..._

“Nice enough? _Nice enough_ ?!”

Mrs. Black’s voice was rapidly rising to such heights as to be heard by dogs only as she stared at her son in outraged bewilderment.

“I certainly hope you are not thinking of _consorting_ with such a lowly, unworthy, _improper_ …”

“Walburga. We are in public,” cut in the ice-cold voice of M. Black, putting an end to the ever-rising tone of his spouse.

The lady begrudgingly lowered her voice and, turning to face her eldest, hissed between her teeth.

“Now, Sirius Orion, listen to me. I forbid you to frequent that boy or any other of his kind during the ride, do you hear me? These are not of our world, and I will not have you disgrace our family by mingling with the likes of him.”

Mr. Black cleared his throat as if to remind his wife — once again — that they were not alone, and inclined his head towards his son.

“I also think you shouldn’t associate with the boy. In your position, you are likely to find all sorts of people trying to take advantage of you. The sooner you make it clear that it shall not be tolerated, the better.”

“Father? The sickly boy is listening to us…”

The younger Black’s voice, coming from his mother’s right, made them all look up as if a mouse had decided to talk right then and there at their feet. Even the hooting thing in the cage gave pause as they all turned at Remus, who was holding the lost book in his hand. Clearing his throat, he nodded at the adults, and, facing Sirius Orion, handed over the volume.

“You dropped this. Your… bird must have dislodged it.”

The boy stepped forward, glancing at his mother as he grabbed his school book as if to make sure she wouldn’t set her son’s fingers on fire to preserve them from the _corruption_.

“Well... thank you, I guess,” Sirius Orion said, this time a bit more tentatively. Then, a brief, mischievous glint passing through his eyes, he added: “Though you seem to have mistaken my venom-spitting feathered dragon for an actual bird.”

Remus felt the shadow of a smile tugging at his lips — but this was promptly kept in check by the scandalised gasp of Mrs. Black. So he merely bent his head at the whole family and spun on his heels, striding away. As he did, he heard the younger of the two brothers asking :

“Is it because his mother is a muggle that he looks that unhealthy, or do you think this book could make Sirius sick ?”

****

“Will you write to me ?”

Reggie was looking up at him, and there was more strain in his voice than he must have wanted. Maybe, as he beheld the train and its billowing puffs of grey smoke, it had hit him that Sirius was going away for way much longer than he ever had before.

“Of course I will, you daft. Every week. Provided that stu- that Artaxerxes does not eat every last one of my fingers as soon as I present him with the letter.”

His little brother had a smile, smothering a giggle — Mother would have deemed it much too improper — and nodded. He must have wanted to hug him, but Blacks were not to display such ridiculous behaviour in public — and not even in private, sometimes. Mother bent over him stiffly, leaving a dry peck on his forehead as a last farewell, and just as soon drew herself back up, not allowing any time for her son to reply. 

Father, though, put a hand on his shoulder, thus commandeering his attention. Looking immediately up at the tall and aloof figure, Sirius affixed his eyes to his father’s — vivid blue eyes, that everyone said he had inherited — as the latter spoke :

“Now Sirius. Today is a very important day. I expect you to remember my instructions of the past few days, and to make sure to behave accordingly to your rank and family.” He paused, giving Sirius a long, thoughtful glance, then bent over slightly, his hand squeezing the boy’s shoulder. “I am certain that you will find the experience most rewarding, my boy.”

Tensing despite himself, the young Black heir nodded curtly, straightening his back in a manner deeply engraved. 

“Thank you. I will not disappoint, Father.”

“I expect no less.”

Then, with one last squeeze on his shoulder, Father let go of him and nodded towards the open door of the wagon, leaving him to clamber up the stairs.

The corridor leading to the compartments was much narrower than Sirius had expected it to be, and was proving difficult to maneuver with a suitcase almost large enough to contain both him and his brother. The thing was almost a family heirloom by its antiquity, a cumbersome contraption of heavy dragon leather adorned with the Black family crest and the words “Toujours Pur” which, Mother had announced proudly as she supervised Kreacher’s folding of his robes and underwear, had faithfully carried his great-great(-great?)-uncle’s belongings on his first day at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Given its weight, he could have sworn that the man had been buried inside of it. His brief attempt to alleviate it with a spell, though, had somehow turned wrong, causing a strip of scaly leather to rip away near the handle -- and if did not find a way to fix it before the Christmas holiday, Sirius was pretty certain he would be the one buried and left to rot inside the bloody thing.

As he was making his way through, looking around to get a view of the inside of each of the train’s compartments as he mused over his mother’s last warning.

He caught a glimpse of two boys whose voices and faces were pretty familiar. Avery and Wilkes. They were engaged in a loud conversation with a bunch of other people that Mother would have definitely deemed proper and worth sharing a space with. Sirius though had actually been formally introduced to them the previous summer, as was the fashion in respectable families… a first encounter that had ended with the infamous frog incident that still brought vivid images to his mind every time he thought about it. Scoffing, he pressed forward before the boy could have a chance of calling out after him, soon disappearing from their view. 

Leaving aside everybody his mother would frown upon was growing into tremendous work. Exeunt smiling boys in second-hand clothes (or even clothes that had not been bought especially for the occasion), enthusiastic girls pressing around a shiny, intriguing — and definitively muggle — rectangular device, people wearing muggle clothing, that group of third or fourth-year students wearing proudly school robes adorned with vibrant shades of red and gold or that wagon where a couple of Hufflepuff girls were comforting another who was crying — in public! — at the prospect of leaving her little sister.

At the very end of the last carriage, one quiet, tired, sickly eleven-year-old was sitting by himself, seemingly asleep against the window. Sirius froze when he recognized the boy whose father had earlier, on the platform, made a fool of himself by pandering to his own, in the hope of getting Sirius to befriend his son, and later overheard his mother’s ranting on his family. Lupin, if his memory was not failing him — the very-same sickly-looking half-blood his father had forbidden the young Black to ever talk to. 

Even sleeping soundly, the boy managed to appear worn out and downbeat - which he might be, too, if a whole train seemed to consider he carried dragon-pox germs or something. Then again, he could not deny that the boy intrigued him. His mother and father had both expressly forbidden him to talk to him though, let alone spend half of the trip sharing the same air and space. That said, he seemed harmless enough, and not sitting there would mean maneuvering suitcase, owl, and books all the way back through a crowded wagon to spend the next hours with Avery and Wilkes. 

If he was to be honest, his brief interaction with the boy had made him curious - if anything, because he was the very first half-blood of his age he had ever had the occasion to actually speak to.

What was the worst that could happen anyway? He could hardly picture the sickly-looking, timid boy turning suddenly into a frightening monster ready to bite his head clean off his shoulders, or worse, writing about it to his mother. Plus, the boy surely looked as if he would sleep through the whole trip, then if Sirius didn’t talk to him, he could hardly be considered to be disobeying his father’s orders, could he? An impatient gruff from a sixth or seventh-year stuck behind him forced him to make up his mind - and he struggled inside the compartment, leaving his trunk by the door with a relieved sigh.

So, Sirius thought as he sat looking through the compartment’s window, here it was at last: his big day. His first step into what would, no doubt, lead him into successful adulthood. He should have been - well, not excited because a Black (and, to an even greater extent, the elder son of the elder branch of the Black family) was not supposed to be excited. If anything, eager to prove his worth and status as he was making his great entrance into the wizarding world.

And he was, to a certain extent. But most of all, he felt frightened out of his mind. He certainly would not have let any of it show in front of the rest of his family, though — first because it would have disappointed his parents, then because Reggie seemed upset enough with him leaving for a _whole_ year without Sirius adding more oil to the metaphorical fire. 

Looking outside, he saw a couple families still lingering on the platform, parents and children embracing like there was no tomorrow. Not that far from the windows, a far-too-old-looking-to-be-the-father-of-an-eleven-year-old wizard was messing with the already messed-up hair of a kid with brown hair and a pair of round spectacles. The boy looked positively beaming as he moved his hand to illustrate a point, talking with a whole lot of excited gestures. When he eventually stopped, his mother cupped his face and looked at him with pride in her eyes, a tender gesture totally alien to the young Black boy. His own mother would have certainly lost all the fingers of that hand before she’d had allowed such a _disgraceful_ gesture, not to mention in a public place. Scoffing and diving deeper into his seat, he decided that he hated the boy on the spot. Most likely some soft-hearted fellow, soon to be sorted into Hufflepuff. 

“You know that eyes can’t drill through glass, don’t you ?”

Sirius startled, his forehead hitting the glass panel with an inelegant “bonk”. As he turned round, he saw a pair of youthful, observant hazel eyes turned at him. The boy was awake, and, judging by the wary expression painted all over his face, the company of the young Black heir was an unpleasant surprise to him. 

Then, as if answering some unheard signal, the train blew its final whistle and set itself into motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HL.Entropie: Welcome to the first chapter of what will be a long series! Our little girl’s big day, so to speak and to quote Lyall. We’re really excited to share it with you, and hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it.
> 
> This story will be set in a modern background, so get ready for a number of modern-era related dynamics to be developed throughout the series (not settling on any specific year was a conscious choice though, partly out of a will to keep You-Know-Which-Sanitary-Context out our imaginary parenthesis of fresh air).
> 
> The series itself won’t always be canon-compliant, and any tag that could lead to spoilers (aka relationships) as the story progresses has been left out on purpose, not to spoil your reader’s experience. So if you like it, stay hooked to the narrative and see what happens. ;)
> 
> This fiction is about people trying to do their best (or sometimes their worst) with what they’ve been given and, sometimes, in spite of what they lack - specifically in regard to their specific background. A lot of mistakes will be made along the way. Some will make really bad decisions, or start out with a number of prejudices that will (or won’t) get better as the story progresses. Please be patient as they’re taking their first steps into the grown-up world, and kind whenever they try and stumble… for the road ahead of them is long and full of trials (that we’ll often make extra-hard for them out of sheer sadism) ;)
> 
> Keep reading and don’t hesitate to comment, encourage, give constructive criticism or ask questions. We don’t bite (except if asked politely) and would be more than happy to hear from you!


	2. The Owl Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a strong and lasting enmity takes its roots...

“The train is about to leave, Lilypad. Are you sure your friend is not already on board ?”

“Or that he is coming at all ?” her sister Petunia muttered with a sneer, earning a disapproving glance from the girls’ mother.

“He can’t be,” Lily said, balancing from one foot to the other, as she was keeping watch on that exact place where she had appeared along with her mother and older sister, almost twenty minutes ago. 

“We promised we’d wait for each other on the platform,” she insisted, a bold frown crossing her brow. “He wouldn’t have gone without me.”

Petunia only sneered louder as an answer, but her mother nodded, and just held her hand a little more tightly. Lily pretended not to notice Petunia’s reaction or the pang of pain that usually went along with it — she knew far too much what her sister thought of Severus, having heard her being more than once pretty vocal on the question. 

Two years her senior, Petunia was thin and blond, with large, pale blue eyes like their dad, whereas Lily had their mum’s bright red hair and bright green eyes. She was right at the beginning of the awkward stages of teenagehood, and was already complaining that boys were thinking her plain and even ugly, with her long face and teeth that their mum had said might need braces in the near future, while Lily seemed to have taken “all the best features in the family, with her heart-shaped face and bright smile, and that silky red crown of hers”.

As much as Lily loved her sister — and hoped her sister loved her — she sometimes wondered whether she _liked_ her… and if Petunia liked her back.

“Well, at this rate, you’re definitely going to miss that train,” Petunia concluded at last, with a tone somewhat close to grim satisfaction.

Part of Lily wondered, before she had the occasion to check herself, if that wasn’t exactly what Petunia was looking forward to, her little witch of a sister missing her ticket for the Grand Tour of the Magical World. Glancing nervously towards the fuming chimney of the huge black train, Lily couldn’t help but grow more and more worried, as the minutes stretched and Severus was yet to make it. 

Despite herself, her mind was beginning to run in circle, letting her imagine a multitude of scenarios, each scarier than the first — her friend would have decided not to come, after all, leaving her all alone to discover this (so scary) _exciting_ brand new world, or worse, been hit by a car on his way here (and she would never know because her parents would move to another town before she came home for the Christmas vacations). In another nightmarish fantasy, he hadn’t waited for her in the first place. He had taken one single glance at the platform and deemed her far less interesting than all those _authentic wizards_ , breathing enthusiasm or confidence as they walked past their little trio, like that cute Indian boy who was talking eagerly with his grandparents as he bounced onwards, or that haughty brunet that had strode by a couple of minutes earlier, looking like some victorian heir on the way to his coronation.

As she searched the station once more, she sent a sympathetic gaze to a boy who was struggling awkwardly to get out of his mother’s embrace — an ample, cheerful woman with light brown hair and a colourful dress, who was kissing him vigorously while pouring an unceasing stream of advice over his head. He reminded her of a small, chubby rodent with his tiny eyes darting everywhere for a way out.

“Look, Lilypad,” Mrs. Evans said, running a gentle finger through her red hair to tuck a strand behind her ear. “We’ll wait for him five more minutes, but then you’ll have to board. You don’t want to miss it, do you ?”

Lily opened her mouth to reply, but was cut short by a scream that sounded like one of the Banshees she had read about in _Defensive Magical Theory_ this very summer.

_“Nice enough? NICE ENOUGH ?!”_

A few hundred yards away, the Little Lord Fauntleroy and his Fauntleroy family were having what sounded a lot like an argument. The mother, a formidable woman in black silk, was shouting in outrage at her son. She indeed possessed the long black hair of a banshee, if not the green, skeleton face, and Lily found herself hoping her scream wasn’t as lethal.

“I certainly hope you are not thinking of _consorting_ with such a lowly, unworthy, _improper_ …”

Lily couldn’t hear what her husband said, as _he_ hadn’t raised his voice, but that seemed to stop her right in her tracks, and she resumed in a much lower tone, leaning over the boy who was now staring at the ground with a stubborn expression. The other boy, who seemed younger, had turned somewhat red at the cheeks, and looked like he was trying hard to keep a dignified composure. Which, considering that he could not have been much older than eight or nine, would have been hilarious if it hadn’t been a bit sad.

“Then again…” Mrs. Evans murmured, a bit worried, “if you don’t feel like going…”

“But I _want_ to go, mummy -” Lily protested, even as the word _improper_ rang to her ears, as if they had been thrown to her.

What if she didn’t _belong_ , after all?

“Lily !!!”

She turned around as Severus’ voice rang out from the archway and she beamed when the lanky, black-haired boy emerged, almost running towards her, his mother following suit.

Lily didn’t like Mrs. Snape that much — and something told her that Mrs. Snape didn’t like her that much either. She was a scrawny, wiry woman, with a pinched, drawn face, and dark circles under stern black eyes Severus had inherited. Her hands were rough, raw, and red from the detergents she was using at work, and she always looked cross and worried, and much older than her thirty-some years. She was snappish too, and most times unpleasant to Lily — as if she did not approve of Severus spending time with her.

“She’s not always like that,” Severus had apologized to her once after Mrs. Snape had chided them both because Severus had ripped his pants’ leg in the bushes to join Lily. “Things are just… complicated.”

Things were always complicated with Severus’ family. Even Lily’s parents seemed to think so. She had heard them talking once, about that “bone-idle, lazy layabout down the lane” and his “long-suffering grim reaper of a wife” who “never seemed to have two pence to rub together and yet looked down her nose at everybody”. 

“She’s a thoroughly unpleasant woman, Mrs. Snape is,” Lily’s mum had said. “But I wouldn’t live with _him_ for the world !”

“Well, she married him,” Lily’s dad had answered with a shrug. “Must have found something in him, at some point. And she’s ain’t leaving either.”

“Well, with a child… And him, throwing their money down the drain...”

After that, Lily hadn’t heard much. But at least, it had comforted her in her impression that Severus’ mum was… not very nice. Not that she would tell Severus, though. She didn’t want to hurt him.

But today, Mrs. Snape seemed to want to be a bit more cordial than usual. She still had that worried, tired look about her, and her answer to Lily’s mum’s greeting had been a bit curt — but she had smiled, for once. A thin, pale smile, a bit faded like something you don’t wear often enough, but a smile anyway. And the gaze she threw at Severus as he came to kiss Lily was full of pride.

“I’m sorry we’re late,” he was saying, a bit out of breath. “We had to wait for my dad to go out before we went to catch the train, so we missed the first one, and then our connection was late, and then we got a bit lost in the underground… Hope you weren’t too worried, were you ?”

“Not at all,” Lily lied. She flashed him a grin, intended to be far more confident than she felt. “I knew you would keep your promise.”

Petunia made a face as if to throw up, which earned her a stern warning look from their mother. Then the train whistled and Lily took Severus’ hand, waving her mother goodbye in the same movement. 

“They’re about to leave, Sev. We’ve got to make a run for it !”

“Wait a minute !” Mrs. Snape called back searching through her handbag. She extracted a long, narrow box from the worn-out pouch, and handed it over to her son. “You don’t want to go without this, do you ?”

Severus’ eyes and face lit up upon seeing the box, and he almost snatched it from her hands, beaming.

“Thank you, Mum! Thank you so much !”

Mrs. Snape smiled, softer than Lily had ever seen her do, and ran a hand through her son’s hair.

“You go and become someone great, Severus. Promise me you’ll get yourself out of there.”

Severus nodded eagerly.

“Will do, ma’am. I swear.”

Mrs. Snape nodded back and let go of him, almost regretfully.

“Now run along.”

“Not before I have my good-bye kiss, little missy !” Mrs. Evans protested, pulling Lily back to her too in a tight hug.

“We’re going to miss the train, Mum…” Lily protested, even as she enjoyed what would be their last embrace before what already seemed an eternity. She almost couldn’t catch her breath as she realised it, fearing, for a minute, that she would break down and cry, and miss her train because her legs would simply refuse to move. 

“You better write to us, won’t you? I want to know everything !” her mum whispered in her ear. “And we’ll think of you always. And I’ll ask your dad for a phone for you for Christmas, just you trust me.” She paused and kissed her forehead. “I love you Lilypad. And we’re really proud of you.”

Behind her, Petunia was looking down at her shoes, her lips pinched together very tightly. But when their mother finally let go of Lily, she looked up, and she was just a bit misty-eyed too.

“Ah, come here,” she said briskly, pulling her little sister in a quick hug. “And don’t let them all turn your head too much, right ?”

She nodded quickly, not trusting her voice enough to talk, then the train whistle again in one last, ominous warning, and everything moved forward very fast. She was running with Severus, suitcases and all, not to be left behind on the platform, and even as her eyes blurred she decided she wouldn’t cry because it was their chance — their chance to become someone.

And as long as they were together, everything would be all right.

******

Remus had fallen asleep as soon as he had settled in the compartment. He was a fussy sleeper — had always been, according to his mum, and even more since… since. — and what with the excitement and anxiety of the trip ahead of him, he had barely slept at all the night before. So the cushions of the seat had seemed all the more inviting… He had expected to wake up when the train would begin to move anyway, and maybe to meet people during the trip.

But what he had not expected was to wake up to the Black boy sitting across the compartment, looking mournfully out the window at some boy who was chatting excitedly with some relatives — maybe his grandparents? — right outside on the platform.

What the he...ck was he doing here? His parents had expressly forbidden him to get anywhere near Remus and the likes of him — half-bloods, that was, not werewolves. They obviously could not have known he was a werewolf, or Remus would already have been forcefully taken off the train by now.

Oh well… Might as well get it over with right away.

“You know that eyes can’t drill through glass, don’t you ?”

The boy gave a rather undignified start and his forehead hit the glass pane with a “bonk” that almost drew Remus a smirk. The latter drew himself back up, having slumped against the wall to doze off, and settled a bit more comfortably into the seat.

“Thought you were not supposed to consort with someone as improper as me ?”

He had almost mimicked inverted commas around the word ‘consort’, but that might have been overkill. And my, the miniature version of the man who had so easily and mercilessly humiliated his father a while before was yet to inherit from his ability to hide any trace of humanity from his face, for he flustered, ever so briefly, before he snapped back :

“Thought it was a matter of education not to overhear anyone’s private conversation ?”

Remus snorted.

“If you wanted to keep it private, maybe it would be good to mind the volume of your voices. Half the station must have heard that part.”

“My mother can be loud, yes thank you,” replied the boy. There was an edge on his voice. “That’s a nasty habit of hers. Happens especially when she’s interrupted in the middle of a family moment by a man too eager to place his pieces to respect it.”

“My father was not-” 

The door opened suddenly. Cut short by the intrusion, Remus remained slightly agape, taken aback. In the opening, there was a girl, about their age, whose bright red hair was framing an excited, freckled face. She took a second to breathe, holding - or rather dragging her friend behind her, and beamed as her lively green eyes scanned the compartment — and the empty seats next to Sirius-Orion and Remus.

"I _told_ you that there must be some place left !"

She was wearing very colourful clothes, and very muggle-like too: a reddish pair of jeans and a bright red sweater adorned with what looked like a red panda in a blue skirt and vest and white shirt. Very cute, but definitely not wizard fashion… The boy behind her — a tall, gangly affair with long, greasy black hair and a hawkish nose — had already changed into his school uniform. He was trying his best to resist the pull as he threw a glance inside and winced.

“There are people in there, Lil…”

Raising an eyebrow in a manner that showed a strong kinship with his father, the younger Black remarked :

"Surely you would agree that it is the whole purpose of a train — to bring people from one place to another ? Otherwise, it would result in quite the amount of useless suitcases being rolled around the country."

His tone left no doubt as to how he felt about having unexpected company. From the corner of his eyes, Remus saw the girl that had been called “Lil’” take a long, sharp look at Sirius-Orion, decide that she didn't like him, and sit down next to him instead. Shooting the offensive Black heir a glare of instant dislike, the boy dropped down on the seat in front of Lil, arms and legs crossed - obviously _not_ sulking.

“Sorry for intruding, but Sev insisted on changing into his robes right after stepping inside the train, and by the time we were done, the wagons were pretty much filled up...” 

Said Sev looked away by the door, making it a point not to turn at either of the two other boys, as if to distance himself from them. Beaming, the young red-haired witch added, her vibrant green eyes shining in a most endearing manner : 

“Are you as excited as I am to be here? I couldn't believe it when I got my letter. Like, magic, witches, and wizards - even a gorgeous fairy tale castle... Isn't that just _wicked_ ?"

"You mean that you're a mu—ggle born witch ?" interrupted Sirius.

Both Remus and Sev snapped up their heads and glared at the boy. Sirius-Orion just shrugged and turned his gaze to the few houses marking the frontier between the countryside and the Londonian suburbs. Oblivious to the meaning of the stutter, Lil nodded. 

"Yes, I am? So, I guess that... Neither of you is."

Rem smiled.

“My mum's a Muggle. My dad works at the Ministry."

"You mean the Ministry of magic — I read about it in the book of magical history !" Lil exclaimed. Then she added quickly, holding her hand out to him : 

"Nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Lily. And this is Sev, my best friend !"

“My pleasure,” Remus said, shaking the offered hand with a polite smile. “I’m Remus. This is Sirius-Orion. We just met,” he added, glancing at the latter, who was still looking out the window with a bored look painted all over his face. Obviously _not_ sulking either.

“Hoot !” interjected the owl under the blanket that still covered its cage, visibly offended not to have been properly introduced.

“Is that a magical owl ?” Lily wondered, her green eyes widening with amazement. “An actual one ?”

He saw a doubtful expression pass on the face of Sirius-Orion, and could already hear the sarcasm that was bound to follow — “No dear, it’s not, it’s a plastic one. Can’t you hear the difference ?”

_Do Purebloods even **know** what plastic is, though ?_

But even the little Prince of Blacks seemed to know the virtues of being a diplomat, because he nodded instead, and, making an effort that seemed almost painful not to humiliate the poor girl just yet, added in a moderately mild tone :

“It’s a gift from my Grandfather for my first year at Hogwarts. It’s a great horned owl, imported directly from America, named after some ancient Muggle who used to be the king of Persia.”

Remus frowned, surprised at the choice of the source for a name — but then again, it was only for a pet. So that made somewhat more sense.

“Like Darius ? Xerxes ?” He paused, thinking hard of the most unnecessarily complicated name he could imagine. How was it again, that Sirius-Orion had tried to call the bird ? Arta-something… “Artaxerxes ?”

“HOOT !” the bird approved, loudly.

“Arta…. Yes, that’s the one,” the young Black blinked, seemingly puzzled. “But how would you even…”

“You’re so lucky,” the red-haired girl interrupted, looking towards the covered cage as if she could somehow see through the fabric. “Sev and I spent almost an hour inside the magical pet shop, but not one of them was close enough to what we could afford, even more after buying the school robes, and furniture….”

She didn’t seem to notice how Sirius-Orion was looking at her as if she had just sprouted a third head (or if it had never come to him before that you could ever renounce buying something to be able to afford something else), but Sev had turned an interesting shade of ashen white and was glaring at her as if to entice her to stop.

“My mother did say that the bird was priceless,” conceded the Black heir, not without something akin to satisfaction in his tone, his previous hostility towards the bird seemingly forgotten.

“Yeah, I’ll bet it is,” Remus sighed. He shrugged. “We couldn’t afford one either actually. I’ll just borrow one from the school owlery.”

“Isn’t it dangerous to keep its cage covered for that long, though ?” Lily asked, frowning. “You know, to allow it to breathe properly ?”

“If you want to give it a try, suit yourself,” the young Black answered, leaning forward as if curious to see what would happen next. “Though I’d mind my fingers if I were you.”

“How bad can it be, really ?” Sev asked impatiently, grabbing the cover and pulling it off.

“HOOT !” came the offended greeting, louder with the cloth off as the owl — a _huge_ thing, with grey-brown feathers, angry yellow eyes, and talons the size of a thumb — lunged at the bars of the cage as if to break through them.

Sev let out a yelp of surprise and jerked backward, falling from the seat to the ground with a loud thud. Almost instantly, the young Black burst into a fit of heartful, juvenile laughter.

“You should have seen the look on your face! It was priceless !”

For a second, Lily seemed about to get up, but before she could intervene, Sev had already jumped to his feet. His clenched jaws were working furiously under the white skin, and he was looking daggers at Sirius-Orion, whipping out his wand.

“Had your fun, haven’t you? Happy with your little joke ?” he hissed between his teeth.

Sirius-Orion’s hand jumped to his wand, too — a bit too quickly, almost as if he had _wanted_ the confrontation to happen. There was something dark in his eyes when he smiled coldly at Sev's murderous glare.

“That’s a pretty little stick you have, but do you even know how to use it ?” he asked, his brief glance towards Lily leaving little doubt about the innuendo.

“Don’t. You. _Dare._ ” Sev growled, practically shaking in fury. 

“Severus, don’t !” interjected Lily, paling as she jumped from her seat.

Remus was getting up too — when, once more, the door slid open abruptly and a loud voice boomed :

“ _Here_ you are !”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TMH-Nevermore — Welcome to Chapter Two! We hope you've enjoyed it, as much as we had fun writing it.
> 
> Of course, these two could _not_ have a nice, smooth start... Where would be the fun in that? (And yes, Remus actually believes that Sirius-Orion is one single name). 
> 
> Now to see who it could be, who has just ruined their first duel ever... Stay tuned for the next chapter, and in the meantime... Do believe in magic ;)


	3. The Lucius Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius learns his first life lesson.

_For a second, Lily seemed about to get up, but before she could intervene, Sev had already jumped to his feet. His clenched jaws were working furiously under the white skin, and he was looking daggers at Sirius-Orion, whipping out his wand._

_“Had your fun, haven’t you? Happy with your little joke ?” he hissed between his teeth._

_Sirius-Orion’s hand jumped to his wand, too — a bit too quickly, almost as if he had wanted the confrontation to happen. There was something dark in his eyes when he smiled coldly at Sev's murderous glare._

_“That’s a pretty little stick you have, but do you even know how to use it ?” he asked, his brief glance towards Lily leaving little doubt about the innuendo._

_“Don’t. You._ Dare. _” Sev growled, practically shaking in fury._

_“Severus, don’t !” interjected Lily, paling as she jumped from her seat._

_Remus was getting up too — when, once more, the door slid open abruptly and a loud voice boomed :_

_“_ Here _you are !”_

******

The newcomer — for whose interruption Remus was _infinitely_ grateful — was a slender, much older boy, with shoulder-length white-blond hair, cold grey eyes, and sharp, pointy features that seemed to be locked in the haughtiest expression Remus had ever seen — yes, even haughtier than the whole Black family’s. He was sporting a green and silver uniform, and on the lapel of his blazer, a similarly coloured badge bearing the word “Prefect” was glimmering.

_Oh, Joy._

As an echo to his thought — and an omen spelling disaster — he saw the young Black pale dangerously, as the hand that was holding the wand retreated behind his back, which straightened immediately as through some deeply ingrained instinct.

“Lucius. You’re here.”

Talk about stating the obvious… The Slytherin prefect did not even bother answering as his eyes glided over the whole compartment, taking in the not-so-well hidden wand of Sirius-Orion, Severus’ still drawn one and unmistakable dueling position, and Lily’s frantic attempt at breaking up the fight. The thin lips tightened as he frowned.

“We’re not there yet and you’re already getting in trouble, are you not ?” he icily uttered.

“I’m not the one who started it !” Sirius-Orion protested.

Sev’s hatred seemed to burn ever stronger at the young Black’s attempt to draw back from his role in their confrontation. The Slytherin prefect didn’t seem to buy much from it, though, and from behind him, he heard someone object :

“Come now. Blacks don’t shy away from their responsibility!” 

The girl who had spoken might be about fifteen. She was tall, slim, and pale, with blue eyes and long, golden-blond hair in which she had plaited a bright green ribbon. Standing in the doorway, she had folded her arms against her stomach and was looking severely at Sirius-Orion.

“You better have a very good explanation, you know!”

The Slytherin prefect had a smile for her and, cutting Sirius-Orion — who was obviously on the verge of serving her a _very_ cutting quip of his own brewing — waved Lily and Sev out without so much as a look for them.

"You two, wait in the corridor. We have some important things to discuss."

If he had noticed Remus at all, he sure was making a good job of hiding it. Not sure of how he was supposed to feel about it, Remus looked at the newcomers, then at Sirius-Orion. Lily flustered and interjected, visibly offended :

"And why on earth should we let you move us around as if the floor itself belonged to your very feet ?"

"You're one to talk....." he heard Sirius-Orion mutter through his teeth.

Her nerve did make the Slytherin pause, though. Looking at them all, not without certain amazement, he turned at Lily and bent over her, his tone changing from haughty to a kind of paternalistic benevolence.

"You are a first-year, aren't you ?" 

He had a smile, a chivalrous, kind-hearted one which had his blonde housemate giggle and fawn over him anew. 

"All excited for the beginning of the new year ?"

Sev tensed, nervous as he kept eyeing the "Prefect" badge on the Slytherin robes. 

"Lil... we should go."

He saw Sirius-Orion wince briefly, as an echo of Sev’s reaction, with something in his expression that could have been almost akin to compassion - if it hadn’t been for the way he was staring at the scene, with a kind of dark satisfaction.

Lily paused, taken aback by the boy’s sudden change of tone, then, with a hesitant nod, she answered, even risking a small, polite smile :

"I am, yes. I still have a hard time believing I’m not having some peculiarly long and vivid dream, you know? Meeting _actual_ witches and wizards, finally being able to see all these things I’ve read about all summer…"

At the twinkle passing through the prefect’s eyes, Remus felt his blood turn cold. More and more ill at ease, he shrank back in his place, unsure of what to say, while Sirius-Orion’s still looked like he would enjoy a bit too much seeing the girl flayed on the spot. Sev, who had begun to gather his things, caught the young Black’s glance and glared at him instantly with a spark of deep, unmitigated hatred.

"Oh, you mean that you have never met people of the wizarding world ?" The Slytherin prefect wondered, still smiling. "What is your name, Luv ?"

The younger witch seemed to hesitate for a second — then, apparently deciding to trust him after all, she reverted to her cheerful self. 

"Lily. My name is Lily Evans. What's yours ?"

The older boy’s smile changed ever so slightly — a fascinating change, a bit like seeing a crocodile emerge from the water, right before it drowns a hapless gazelle...

"My name, little girl, is Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy. And I happen to be the Prefect and Head boy of House Slytherin." He straightened up, his chin shooting up. "Now, as this is your very first day on every count, I will let slide that incredibly impolite earlier statement of yours. But as a Prefect, I will repeat myself: you and your friend are to leave the car, as we have to discuss important matters. And you will not make a fuss about it. Unless you want me to remember your name and get points out of your future House, on your very first day." He smiled again — an incredibly cold smile, again way too reminiscent of a crocodile on the prowl. "Have I made myself clear, Lily Evans ?"

Lily had paused, her smiles fading slowly from her face, getting paler by the minute. Nodding without a word, her enthusiasm but just a vague memory — and clutching her muggle bag to her, she hurried out of the compartment, bumping into the girl’s flank in the process. As her steps began to fade, Remus could hear the unmistakable sound of crying.

The younger Black shifted uneasily, looking almost guilty. Sev lunged out right behind her, shouting out her name, probably to try and comfort her somewhere down the corridor. The blonde girl, who had recoiled in disgust as Lily bumped into her side, let out — her nose twitching in contempt :

"Filthy Mudblood..."

Remus sat back up, eyes flaring. The Slytherin Prefect, meanwhile, nonchalantly straightened his tie and turned at Sirius-Orion. 

"Well. Now that the nuisances have been dealt with..." He paused dramatically and looked down at the boy, his eyes now icily severe. "Would you care to explain why you are not in proper company, as you were supposed to be ?”

Sirius-Orion shuffled uncomfortably.

“I didn’t find their wagon — plus that suitcase weighs like a dead horse which would have swallowed an elephant.”

It was obvious from the disdainful sniff Malfoy gave that he did not believe a word of it. His mouth took a rather nasty curve as he leaned forward.

“Well, there are still a few hours left until we get to the castle. So you are going to get changed into your uniform, gather your things and come up to the prefects’ compartment. I managed to get you a seat there, and I expect you to end the journey with us so that I can properly prepare you for the upcoming year.”

“Yes, Lucius.” answered the boy flatly — and from his tone, you could have sworn he had just agreed to be led to the gallows.

“Good,” Malfoy dropped, straightening back up. “We’ll be expecting you. Don’t dally on the way.”

“Wouldn’t dare dream of it, you’d probably push the rest of us out of the train for him not to…” Remus snapped.

Malfoy gave pause, turning to look at him for the first time since he had set foot into the compartment — and the look he gave him was somewhat akin to the look he would have had for a beetle who would have suddenly addressed him. Remus upheld the gaze without flinching — only for Malfoy to scoff and roll his eyes and turn away from him.

“Don’t make us wait,” he concluded, exiting the compartment with a hand around the blond girl’s waist. “You don’t want to begin the year by being in trouble, do you ?”

And, without waiting for an answer, he closed the door behind him on his way out.

*****

The silence that followed Lucius’ departure felt awkward and heavy. It took a moment for Sirius to actually look in the general direction of the Lupin boy — only to meet the reproving gaze of the same clever, hazel eyes. To which he frowned in response.

"What is that for?” Sirius protested. “I didn't make that girl cry, _he_ did that !"

"You sure did nothing to stop him either,” Remus retorted, folding his arm. “She did not deserve to be treated like that !"

"She'll manage... I guess?” Sirius shrugged, getting uneasy. Then he added, more for himself than for the other boy, in a way… “She didn't have to be such a crybaby about it."

“A _crybaby_ ?” Lupin snapped back, obviously outraged. “He _threatened_ her ! He sucked all the joy of her day out of her like a flipping Dementor, and he enjoyed every second of it !"

Sirius flinched, and this time, felt guilt creep up to his throat.

"That's the way he is. You shouldn’t get on his bad side, he’ll make you regret it."

Lupin snorted in a rather undignified manner. 

"Then I'm rather happy there's not a snowball's chance in Hell I'll be sorted in Slytherin. If he is Prefect, it's no wonder the House has such a reputation for meanness..."

Sirius frowned, confused by the boy’s sheer nerve. That was the first time he ever heard anyone voice _this_ kind of opinion about the ophidian House.

"It doesn't! If anything, it has a reputation for excellence and grandeur… It hosted many reputed wizards through the centuries."

He would know, for his mother had had him remember the list — which came only second in terms of boredom-inducing chores to having to know by heart the complete (and extended) Black Family Tree.

Remus only shrugged and added, flatly : 

"Well, that's what my father said."

Sirius felt his back tense up into a straight line as he snapped back, more coldly :

"That didn't prevent him from trying to gain advantage of our family's influence, did it…. even though Blacks have been Slytherins for centuries !"

Looking at him, the Lupin boy shook his head reprovingly, making Sirius feel like he had failed some test he hadn't even been aware of taking. 

"What my father wanted was for me to have someone to talk to. Because I don't know anyone there, and I don't have any friends. But yeah, sure, whatever, influence and shit." He paused and leaned back into his seat. "You should get dressed already. It's not like you'd like to talk to someone you obviously think is only trying to mooch off you, right ?"

There was nothing to answer, so Sirius did not try. Instead, he opened his trunk and carefully unfolded the black, still neutral uniform he was to wear from now on. As he got changed, the other boy seemed to have calmed down. Now leaning again against the wall of the compartment, his head resting against the window’s pane, he was looking absently outside, but still stealing occasional glances in his direction. He looked tired, now, and even a bit sad.

After tying up the last of his cloak’s strings and making sure the trunk was properly closed, Sirius picked up the birdcage where Artaxerxes was glaring at the other boy with what looked suspiciously like abhorrence. As he pushed the door open, the young Heir of the House of Black took a second to look at the other... And tried, more quietly :

“About what happened….”

The other boy just sighed. It seemed as if his confrontation with Lucius then Sirius himself, for as short as it had been, had already emptied him of all his energy.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.”

 _Then who in Salazar’s name was he supposed to be apologizing to?_ His question must have shown on his face, as Lupin sighed and shrugged, as if giving up — as if, actually, Sirius had failed to pick up on something obvious for the other.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person. You’re just… used to having things go your way. But you could become one if you don’t start caring for what other people are going through.”

“Hoot!” protested Artaxerxes.

Sirius didn’t know what to answer to _that_. Part of him ached to confess that he didn’t have any friends either, for all the people he knew in the world were members of his family. But his parents surely wouldn’t approve of showing such weakness. 

So he nodded curtly and got himself, Artaxerxes, and his suitcase out of the wagon. And as he heard the door close, he told himself that at least, it didn’t seem to weigh this much anymore, compared to how his heart did.

He couldn’t really explain why he was feeling so dejected upon the Lupin boy’s words. That’s the way it was supposed to be, wasn’t it? When you were a Black, only other Blacks counted. Blacks would crush those who dared to call themselves enemies under their heels because that’s the way it was meant to be. As a Black, you could have people you would call allies, but only if you remembered that what mattered first and foremost were those of your blood. Your family. 

Sirius decided he shouldn’t have gone to that boy’s wagon — it had been a mistake, he could see it now. He should have stuck to what his parents had asked him to do and used his precious time building relationships with wizards that were bound to share a House with him, instead of consorting with people he would hear no more of after the sorting ceremony. 

Not only because he was the heir… But also because he was Reggie’s older brother, and the first of the two to settle into the castle.

Regulus. His little scaredy-cat of a brother, always brilliant with their teachers, and more applied than Sirius could ever dream of being (as some of them would repeatedly tell Sirius), but who, one day, had asked Sirius if they would still be brothers if he was sent to Hufflepuff. Reggie would just get swallowed up whole if he didn’t build a place — a nest — for the two of them… For he wasn’t that strong yet — not “Black” strong, no — instead he was far too sweet for his own good. Mother always said that in this world, there existed people that were _different_ from them — lesser people, that lived a life of envy and were out to get you as soon as you offered the slightest sign of weakness. But sometimes — when he thought about people like Avery and Wilkes — Sirius would get the conviction that people just like their own were the most dangerous of all.

Given the blood-curling stories his mother would tell his father each time she came back from a tea-party, he was pretty sure that he wasn’t mistaken. 

_I don’t think you’re a bad person._

If he was right, why was the image of that girl — Lily, her name was Lily, but that other boy would call her Lil’ because he cared for her as Sirius cared for Reggie — playing over and over in his mind’s eyes? The way her smile had disappeared and her green eyes had begun to fill up with tears. But she had been loud, and obnoxious _(or just excited to be here)_ , and she had imposed on them _(she had apologized, said she had been waiting for her friend)_. Plus… he was pretty sure that his mother would validate what happened to the muggle girl, and parents were supposed to know better, right?

_(What about the girl’s mother, then? You think she would approve ?)_

_You could become one if you don’t start caring for what other people are going through._ But she wasn’t one of his _own_ ! 

Sirius shook his head, his black hair flying around as if trying to chase away a pesky bug, and put his hand on the handle of the door leading to Lucius’s compartment. Then he stopped. There was an argument going on inside.

Lucius’s voice echoed through the door. He sounded both furious and outraged, which made the young Black freeze on the spot. 

He hadn’t been joking when he had told Remus he shouldn’t get on Lucius’ bad side.

“I’m telling you that she’s the one who prompted the duel. And as soon as Young Sirius gets here, he will promptly tell you the same. Salazar only knows how it would have ended for those boys had I not stepped into that wagon !”

“And of course, the fact that your _fiancée_ ’s cousin was involved in the fight has nothing to do with you going on a crusade on that poor girl, on her very first day in a new school,” replied the other. It sounded like a sixth or seventh year, that Sirius was yet to know.

“I’m merely concerned about the well-being and _morality_ of two impressionable young boys, Lionfish. I don’t know what this little red-haired muggle-born is up to....”

“I fail to see how her lack of wizarding ancestors is at the heart of it all, Malfoy.”

“I reckon you know what is said about muggle-born girls.”

“I’m perfectly aware of what your kind is saying on the matter, indeed, Malfoy.” Lionfish's voice had dropped to a dangerous low. “As to its relevance concerning the current situation… Come on, that poor girl is only _eleven_ !”

What’s _that_ got to do with anything? — Sirius wondered. He couldn’t even remember his mother warning him about muggle-born _girls_ in particular. He knocked on the door before Lucius could get into another rant (or before another of that stupid bird hooting called on him eavesdropping. He could see his yellow eyes judging him silently). The silence that followed almost made him want to turn back — but Narcissa, as annoying as she might sometimes be, had a point: he was a Black, and Blacks don’t shy away from their responsibilities. 

A very annoyed-looking Lucius opened the door so violently that it almost lept out of its railings, and stared him down, obviously ready to chew off the ears of anyone who had dared interrupt their discussion. And as he was, for once, under the wrong end of that blazing basilisk glare, Sirius could not help but think that his cousin-in-law-to-be could be, indeed, pretty impressive when angry.

Upon seeing it was him, though, Lucius somewhat relented and took a step back to allow him in.

“The boy himself,” he said, turning with an emphatic wave of his hand towards another, older boy who, Sirius surmised, must be Lionfish.

The latter could hardly be any different from the tall, slim, aristocratic Lucius. Standing at something like 5’7”, the seventeen-year-old was chubby _(“overweight”, Mother would have deemed)_ , with a crown of wild, tawny hair that looked like it had never seen a comb, a round, expressive face, and an unfortunate attempt at a beard on his chin. He, too, had changed into his school uniform, but the white shirt’s collar was open on a necklace that looked ethnic, and he wore colourful bracelets on both his wrists as well as a big, black, plastic wristwatch. His tie, which was loosely hanging around his neck (by _choice_ ?), was red and gold — just like the badge pinned to his chest that read “Prefect”.

Of course. Only the Gryffindor prefect could have the nerve to argue so boldly with Lucius Malfoy.

“Come now, Sirius. Tell us all about that duel of yours,” Lucius urged him. “And then we will see that the instigator of that disgraceful incident is properly punished. A hundred points off the House should do the trick,” he added with a vicious smirk.

That made Sirius still. If she started the year by having her house lose points because of — whatever it was that Lucius was implying? — her whole dorm would probably hate the guts out of that poor girl. _And she didn’t even do anything wrong…_ that same voice that sounded annoyingly like that sickly Remus’ added viciously.

At least it wasn’t the sound of Lily crying.

He must have remained frozen in place for too long, for Lucius pressed on :

“Sirius? Are you testing my patience? I asked you to tell us who has instigated your duel!”

“It was me.” Sirius heard himself said — so unexpectedly that he was almost startled by the sound of his own voice.

“I beg your pardon ?”

Lucius has whirled around and was now facing him, his pale, pointy face slowly turning red.

“I’m the one who started the fight.” Which wasn’t exactly true, but he might as well have. He sure had been looking for an opportunity to ruffle some feathers with the annoying boy who had been glaring at him ever since he had put a foot into their compartment… 

Lucius had now gone from bright red to grey in the blink of an eye — but his eyes were blazing even more fiercely than when he had opened the compartment’s door but two minutes earlier. _Now would be as excellent a time as any to shut up_ , some part of his brain warned him. But because Sirius had always been shit at listening to advice, including his own, he concluded by adding, quoting his cousin’s fiancé :

“ _The instigator of that disgraceful incident_ , if you would. It was me. I didn’t like the way that boy was looking at me, plus he happened to have an awful sense of humor.”

Any other day, Sirius would have loved to have made Lucius pull such a face. He would have done it with Reggie by his side, so that his little brother would have been both horrified by his nerve, and trying his best not to burst out laughing at the way Malfoy would try to keep a somewhat dignified countenance after such a humiliation. Mother would probably have kicked up a right fuss, and Father himself would have chastised him, certainly — but the fun of it would have been undeniable, and the glint of awe in Reggie’s eyes would have made it all worth it.

Any other day.

It didn’t get any better when the Gryffindor Prefect burst out laughing. Sirius could feel his ears go red, as he strengthened his grip around the handle of his trunk.

“Well, the House of Black certainly has kept that _gem_ well hidden from the world…” said the boy clad in Red and Gold, still laughing good-heartedly. “That’s almost a shame to lose him to the Slytherins… With that nerve and determination, your fiancée’s cousin would have made a great addition to the Gryffindor House!”

Then, his eyes glistening more dangerously, he added :

“I trust you have not forgotten the punishment you yourself offered, Lucius.”

Lucius could hardly have become more rigid, more marmorean, more implacable than he was looking at this very moment. His eyes had not left Sirius for one second — and never so far had he looked at him with such anger. But he was a Malfoy, and the Malfoys, like the Blacks, were not to display their emotions and feelings in front of outsiders. The payback would be for later.

“I have not, Lionfish,” Lucius hissed between his teeth. “A hundred points off the House. As soon as the sorting ceremony will be over.”

“Always the good sport, aren’t you, Malfoy?” Lionfish concluded with a chuckle, taking his place by his fellow Gryffindor prefect.

Lucius’s jaws clenched, and he merely went back to sit by Narcissa’s side, gesturing for Sirius to take place too. Upon seeing him struggling with his trunk, he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Leave the bloody thing at the door, the carriers will take care of it. And sit down, for Salazar’s sake !”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HL.Entropie: Here it is. First life lesson for Sirius: the road to knowing better is paved with a lot of pissing off your cousin’s fiancée… (and having Remus’ voice pestering you like a very dedicated Jiminy Cricket).
> 
> Stay tuned for the next chapter, and don’t hesitate to comment — be it that you want to share enthusiasm, give advice, give little idiotic Sirius a wack on the head, or discuss whether it is reasonable to assume that a finite set of grammar rules generates an infinite set of sentences.


	4. The Black Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a famous quartet is born… or is it?

Dragging the Indian boy with tilted glasses and unruly hair he had already come to both fear and idolize like a solar god, Peter stammered with an apologetic smile as he backed out of the train :

"....and I swear he didn't turn your hair into straw on purpose.... anyway, we're going away -"

“Aw come on, it's not as bad as it looks, you know !" 

Giggling and choking from his latest misdeed, James caught the arm of a sickly-looking boy waiting near the pier, splitting the crowd and stumbling into a boat right under the nose of two nasty-looking boys — and nearly knocking the shortest of them, a brown-haired, weasel-faced boy, into the water. 

“Ready to go !”

Peter heard the offended boy, stuck knee-deep into the muddy bank — Avery, his friend had called him out when he’d reached to help — let out a stream of insults, one of them Peter was pretty sure was a racial slur. James didn’t seem to hear it, laughing as he clapped the sickly-looking boy on the back as if they had just shared a good joke. Then just like that, the boat set itself into motion, and they were all heading towards the castle grounds.

“That was a close call! My name’s James, what’s yours ?”

“Sirius”, was the only answer from the kid at the other end of the boat, who was eyeing the two of them warily. This made the shabby-looking boy pause for some reason… though Peter had a feeling they knew each other already, from the way they’d kept exchanging glances since the latter had been crammed forcedly into the boat through James’ intervention. 

He looked quite nice though. A quiet fellow, with an open face and clever eyes. Still, Peter couldn’t detach his gaze from the scars running across his face, as if he had been mauled by some wild beast — and turned bright red when he saw him look in his direction, catching him staring. He merely shrugged tiredly, and said, turning to James :

“I’m Remus.”

“And that’s Peter,” James concluded, clapping him on the shoulder, still beaming. “We met on the train, he’s a great guy !”

Peter felt himself turn an even brighter shade of red and smiling like an idiot at the compliment and Remus softened visibly. Before long, he and James had begun a chat, of which Peter heard nothing. Leaving them aside, he had turned to look at the castle whose lights were reflected by the ink-black, mirror surface of the lake. The immense, contorted building was getting close by the second, looming over the tiny boats almost ominously.

“Are you still worrying about the ceremony, mate ? I’m telling you this sorting thing will be a piece of cake. We’ll both be in Gryffindor before you even have time to blink !”

Peter felt his cheeks get redder but he didn’t answer, kind of worried that the two other boys would make fun of him. James’ bold assurance reminded him of his mother.

She had squeezed him almost to death on the platform — and, as embarrassing as he had said it was, he had not been completely able not to want it to last just a little longer… Not that he was afraid, no sirree. No, he was absolutely _terrified_ , petrified out of his mind. Yeah, that was more like it.

And his mum had felt it, because his mum would always feel these things. So she had let go of him, and she had knelt before him, and she had taken both his hands in hers, locking eyes with him.

“You’re braver than you think, don’t you forget that. You’ve always been the man of the house, after all.”

He wished he could believe her. She was fearsome, his mother, in her own way. Affectionate and ready to go above and beyond for those she loved - even when it meant doing what she thought was best for people in spite of their own ideas on the matter. Peter could still remember that time when she had made him ask for that cute girl he secretly fancied to come to his birthday party… “So that you can get to know each other better, buttercup.” 

He had spent the whole day having his eyes jumping down to his feet any time he would try to even look at her, and ended up trying to avoid her for months after the event…. Until the girl finally moved away to Germany along with her parents, to both his sorrow and relief.

Meeting James’ expecting glance, he only shrugged as an answer.

“I dunno mate…. It seems quite a hard reach, for me. I’m pretty sure Hufflepuff is a more realistic expectation.”

The dark-haired boy, the one who had introduced himself as Sirius, had been eyeing the both of them warily (and James especially). Peter wasn’t sure he liked him that much. To be honest, he was pretty sure he didn’t. With that haughty expression of his, he made him uneasy, and Peter couldn’t seem to bring himself to meet his eyes properly. He wondered if the boy was judging him. He surely was, and he could have bet that _he_ didn’t picture him going to Gryffindor at all. 

"Did you really turn that girl's hair into straw ?" 

Peter tensed at the unexpected question, who had come — speaking of the devil !— from Sirius, but James — who’d been just about to head into another bout of inspirational talk — stopped and laughed fondly at the reminder.

"Yeah, that was hilarious !!!" He whacked Peter on the shoulder. "Wasn't it? Brilliant !"

Peter was still pretty horrified by the remembrance of the incident, but he also didn’t want to ruin his new friend’s enthusiasm, so he emphasized eagerly : 

"Oh yes! It was awesome! Properly awesome !"

“Poor girl…” Remus said, alarmed. But Sirius’ eyes went as wide as saucers instead.

“You mean you’re using magic to pull practical jokes on people ?”

"Eh, if she didn't want jokes pulled on her, she shouldn't have badmouthed the li'l red-hair in the corridor."

"She was pretty cute, indeed,” Peter approved, nodding as if it was the most profound gem of wisdom he’d ever heard. Surprisingly, he saw Sirius wince and shift inside the boat, as if it had become suddenly too narrow for the four of them.

"Ah, that girl.... by the way, has she stopped crying ?"

"Yeah,” James said, nodding, “there were a few people around her and her friend, and one third-year Hufflepuff took them both in her car. She's ok now, I think."

There was just the quickest of glance between Sirius and Remus — so quick, in fact, that if he had blinked at that very moment, Peter would have missed it. Immediately after, Sirius turned his head towards James and Peter with some curiosity.

"So what, you just decided to turn the girl into a barn to teach her some kind of lesson ?"

"I was going with 'stables', but 'barn' works too !" Laughing, James ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it even more. "She was getting all snotty and uppity, and said the girl was being a crybaby and a drama queen, and all."

Remus seemed to bite back a sneer, and Peter saw the dark-haired boy share a long, tensed look with him, then, crossing his arm, he said, with something provocative in his tone.

"I think I would rather have turned her tongue into a snake. You know, to add some kind of poetic justice to the whole gesture."

"That would have been awesome !" Peter said, beaming.

"That would have been quite the over-reaction," said Remus, clicking his tongue.

"That wouldn't have been awesome,” corrected Peter, quickly. 

"Yeah, I don't know about that... kinda hard to catch such a quick target, right ?" added James after he had given it a thought.

"What, don't tell me you don't like a little challenge ?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. The boy’s face was a closed book for Peter, which pretty much unsettled him for he didn’t know whether he was trying to be nice or pulling their leg. “Plus, it's alright as long as you don't choose a poisonous one, isn't it ?"

Scratching his chin, James gave it a thought.

"Maybe next time. If she's being real mean. Like... a... python ?"

"Isn't that huge ?" Remus interjected, aghast.

"Yes, quite a lot, she may choke up and die,” reflected Sirius, tilting his head. Peter had never seen anyone that skilled for saying the nastiest things while managing to like some puzzled puppy. “Maybe a little one, like this anguis thing ?"

That rang a bell for Peter, who had spent a lot of summers at his grandparents upsetting the local fauna near the riverside.

"You mean slowworms? Aren’t these some kind of lizards, and not snakes ?" He asked, thoughtful.

"It is !” answered Remus, who seemed actually impressed. “Do you know much about these ?"

Peter blushed before he was able to help it, and tried to answer but it came out utterly and completely inaudible — which, however, spared him from having to confess that he had reached the limit of his knowledge. Fortunately, Remus seemed to understand and didn’t press the subject.

“Anyway, that would still be a bit too much. But I’m sure that there would be something to be done along these lines. You know, if the need arises.”

He had just a glint of mischief in his eyes as he spoke. James beamed, Sirius smirked, and even Peter couldn’t help but smile, and, this time, he could almost believe James was right - maybe everything would turn out well, in the end. The four of them seemed to share something - a kind of energy that made Peter feel like he could do anything, as long as they had his back.

There was a brief pause, as Remus finally detached his eyes from the castle and cupped his chin in his hand.

"I wonder where I'll end up... My dad was a Ravenclaw, and I guess I’m pretty much of a bookworm myself… so I guess the same... ?"

"Then you will probably get there,” approved James, nodding knowingly. My father’s family has a long tradition of Gryffindors... I don’t even think anybody ever went to another house. So I’m pretty sure that’s where I'm going to be !"

"Isn't it a bit frustrating ?"

The question, though it had been uttered in a low tone, seemed to boom like a bolt out of the blue.

"What do you mean ?" Sirius wondered, frowning. 

This caused Peter to prick up his ears. After all, the dark-haired boy had not seemed too thrilled to see the subject of houses pop up in the conversation.

"Well, it sounds like everything has already been decided since our parents went into their own house,” wondered Remus, his eyes returning to the castles’ lights ahead. “That doesn't leave much choice for anything... Isn't that a bit... annoying? I mean... I already know that there are several things I won't be able to do, later. And that’s so... disappointing, you know? I mean, if I didn't know I can't do them, I may never have thought about them at all! But just because I know I can't, it's... frustrating. Like you never knew there was a kind of food, and suddenly they tell you you can't have it, and even though you didn't know about it one minute before, now you can't stop craving it ?"

Sirius had stilled, with his mouth slightly ajar in a not-so-high-and-mighty-and-classy way, listening to Remus, entranced, as if he had just discovered a whole new planet — which he might, actually, have. Then, slowly, he seemed to snap out of it and conceded :

"This is... what did you say about the food again ?"

“We’re almost there!” James exclaimed, pointing excitedly at the embankment where the first boats were already docking. 

“Pretty eager, aren’t you, Potter?” Sirius said with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m-” began the other boy, then he cut himself short, frowning. “Wait a second — I haven’t told you my whole name yet… How would you know about it ?”

Sirius merely shrugged.

“Well, simple deduction process. You said your family has been in Gryffindor for generations, you’re Anglo-Indian, and I saw you on the platform with your parents. Your father’s Fleamont Potter, right ?”

“Ok, have you been taking summer lessons in divination ?”, asked James, sounding pretty impressed.

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“No. But we’re related. Your uncle Charlus married my grandfather’s sister, Dorea.”

“Dorea….” James blinked, then asked, a frown barring his forehead: “Wouldn’t that make you a Black ?”

Sirius nodded again and answered, on the tone one uses to recite a well-learned lesson :

“I am. I am the eldest son of Orion and Walburga Black, and heir apparent of the elder branch of the house of Black.”

Peter frowned, haunted by a nagging doubt, leaned over and whispered in James’ ear — though maybe not quite as discretely as he might have wanted :

“Isn't that a family that uses the Dark Arts?"

"I heard that," Sirius snapped, clicking his tongue, eliciting a squeaking sound from Peter.

James, on the other hand, did not even try to make an effort.

“Yes, it is,” he answered coldly. He got up, anger rising to colour his face. “Makes sense that you’d use a snake to make a prank, then !”

Visibly stung, Sirius drew himself up, his eyes blazing.

"Well, you didn't seem to care so much just one minute before. I hadn't figured you as so prompt to change your mind, Potter."

Peter winced and shrunk back in his seat, trying to dig a burrow in it, while James stretched himself as tall as he could.

“I, for one, wouldn't make it permanent! But your kind? I wouldn't be surprised !"

“Guys…” Remus tried to interject, extending a hand between the two.

"My kind, you say..." Sirius hissed, stiffening, before straightening his back and staring at him with scorn. "Well, I have as much to say about yours."

“Mine at least doesn’t make it a habit to harm their fellow humans!” James spat out.

"GUYS !!!"

Remus had jumped to his feet, colour rising to his cheeks. But they both ignored him. Sirius laughed bitterly.

"Well, that would imply that your parents are still young enough to make decisions, without you having to hold their spoons for them..."

James blanched as if the other had spat in his face, and hunched over, inches away from pouncing on him.

“Don’t you DARE !”

"STOP THAT RIGHT NOW !!!"

Remus had lurched forward, physically interposing himself between the two boys, and extending both arms to keep them apart. But he didn’t have time to say anything else, as both James and Sirius saw themselves being lifted up in the air by the largest pair of hands Peter had ever seen in his life.

“Thought I saw a boat where none were gettin’ out. What ye think yer doin’, eh, startin’ a brawl e’en afore th’ year’ e’en started?”

The voice that had uttered these words was rumbling from somewhere high above their heads, and Peter caught a glimpse of a massive beard and shaggy hair, and the glint of a belt buckle with huge iron keys — the gigantic man that had shepherded the first-years on the platform at Hogsmeade’s station.

Without letting any of the boys protest, he let them down on the shore and pushed them forward, each in a different direction, with a pat in the back.

“Run alon’, now, an’ don’ let me catch up t’yer. An’ that goes fer yeh two too !”, he added, turning to face Peter and Remus, who were still standing, somewhat dumbfounded, in the small boat.

Both boys shared a look, and scrambled to shore to join the long line of pupils walking up the path leading to the castle. By the time they had reached it, Sirius had been swallowed up by the crowd — and Peter had resumed his place by James’ side.

***********

The Great Hall was quite a sight. A long, high-ceiled room, where four, seemingly unending tables, accommodated the four Houses under the bright light of thousands of candles floating above-head under what looked like the midnight sky in lieu of the arches and stones of the ceiling.

“AVERY, Dorin Clodas !”

Refraining himself from fretting too much, which shouldn’t have been an issue — since, contrary to his little brother, he’d never been prone to fidget out of stress, for Salazar’s sake — Sirius looked straight forward as Avery emerged from the crowd of first-year students, sharing a naughty smile with Wilkes before heading towards the stool placed in the middle of a wooden podium, right in front of the professor’s table.

He hadn’t even bothered to cast a glance at Sirius. The pureblood boy had been giving him the cold shoulder since the boat incident, as if the whole thing was his fault. He watched as the Deputy Headmistress, Mrs McGonagall, raised the massive hat to put it on Avery’s head, almost wishing the boy would go straight into Hufflepuff to somehow lessen Sirius' shortcomings and to serve him right for being a snotty piece of dragonshit.

“SLYTHERIN !” The hat shouted, and the Slytherin table erupted with cheers.

With a smug smile, Avery put the hat back on the stool, then had the nerve to actually double back and bump fists with Wilkes, before he was sent on his way by a clearly not amused Deputy Headmistress. As he watched him being clapped in the back by a number of housemates, looking like a fish in the water (or a snake in the grass), Sirius couldn’t help but wonder whether _he_ would be the one ending up buried at the bottom of the badger’s den. 

Surely, if things went down that way, his mother wouldn’t even wait until dawn to burn his name off of the family tapestry… Sirius thought, before chastising himself. Tonight, he would send a letter to his brother, to tell him everything about his first day in the castle — and that wouldn’t do to frighten him out before the younger Black had even taken a single step into the school himself. He had to toughen up and face the music, like a real Black would. 

So, he couldn’t stand Avery and Wilkes, and he’d obviously begun on the wrong foot with Lucius… What about it? The Slytherin House would be filled with other people — other purebloods with whom he was going to build relationships. He’d find a crowd — his own crowd into which he would fit, settle — or better, lead, like his father expected him to. 

“BENNET, Michelle!”

That meant not half-blood, Sirius went on, and most certainly no muggle-born, he thought as a shy looking girl, whose name was clearly not an indicator of wizard’s descent, made her way to the stool. Lucius’ voice came back to him, in that venomous tone of his, back in the train. _I reckon you know what is said about muggle-born girls…_ There was something in Lucius’ words… like a stain, that once you’d seen you couldn’t ignore, that made him wonder if he actually liked the older boy who was supposed to guide him throughout the whole year.

Lucius had made him pay whatever offence he thought Sirius had caused him. The last hours of the train ride had been spent in a relentless stream of explanations and list of his future duties as a “proper” Slytherin, during which Lucius had been very careful not to let him place more than the very necessary sounds. Even the small highlight of the ride, the passage of the candy trolley, had been cut short by a disapproving comment from the blond boy when Sirius had wanted to buy something — and of course, the Gryffindor had made a point of buying a huge amount of chocofrogs and other sweets right under his nose…

He had given him a chocofrog on his way out, though.

His eyes drifted to Lily, visible in the front of the crowd of first years, with Severus next to her. She was looking straight ahead, now, and apart from some lingering red patches on her face, you couldn’t have guessed what had happened a little earlier. Sirius knew _he_ certainly wouldn’t be facing such a crowd anytime soon if he had been caught crying in public, of all things. But with her slightly puffed eyes, red cheeks and stubborn gaze, Lily looked fierce, and, Sirius marveled, actually stronger from what had happened in the train.

You know what they say about muggle-born girls, Lucius had said. _If they’re all like her, I say they’re tough as hell._

As the girl trotted off to the Ravenclaw table, he saw Professor McGonagall pause and raise an eyebrow, which couldn't be a good sign. Then she called out :

“BLACK, Sirius Orion, the third !”

_Had Mother **really** gotten him registered like that… ?_

Behind him, he heard a chuckle that he was pretty sure originated from Potter… Then from a distance, he saw Avery whisper something to a second or third year sitting next to him, ostensibly looking at Sirius and making the other boy snicker loudly. But he stopped at once when Narcissa, leaning over the table, made what must have been some scalding remark. On her left, Malfoy was staring straight at him, and nodded impatiently. 

If he was to be gaped at like a stag with golden horns, they would get value for their money. He set his back straight, his chin high (though not too high for it made you look like both a prick and an idiot), and walked towards the stool as if he was walking straight to his coronation. 

_Time of truth_ , Sirius said to himself, eyeing with renewed intensity the table clad in green and silver he was to join in any moment now. Lucius was clacking his nails on the wood, while the rest of the table was waiting, almost bored, for the verdict. Only one student was watching him with a hawkish attention and an unsettling smirk.

_As if he was expecting him to fail some sort of hidden test._

_Damned Rabastan._

Then the hat descended stupidly low over his eyes, cutting his view of the Great Hall. For a moment, Sirius thought of his uncle Alphard, who once told him that a man could only be brave when he was afraid. He had laughed at the time. Now, he wondered if, following this logic, being utterly scared out of his skin automatically made him extra-brave. 

_Come on, it’s ambition I’ve got to focus on at the moment, right ? Ambition and freaking leadership too, such as how to become Lucius Malefoy’s number one minion…_ Sirius thought, quite sardonically…

….then almost jump out from the stool when the hat’s voice echoed directly into his head :

_You do not sound too thrilled._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TMH-Nevermore — Poor Sirius, it does seems that things are not starting out too well for him… and that first chat with James doesn’t look promising either!
> 
> Thank you for reading, we still can’t believe we actually scored over 100 hits! That’s so great ♥ *little victory dance* We hope you’ll keep reading and enjoying our story. Stay tuned to see what the Hat has to tell our favourite little troublemaker ; and until next time... do believe in magic ;)


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